Crazy Love
by MrsShortHand
Summary: Struggling to deal with her parents' divorce, Bella meets a confidant in the most unlikely of places. **Entry and a winner for the Meet the Mate contest**


**A/N:** I wrote this entry for the Meet the Mate contest last month and am pleasantly surprised to say I won in a category! A few things I want to note:

1) If anyone is a reader of Rising Dream, Fallen Star - do not worry! I do not plan to start a new story before finishing that one.

2) I'm still on the fence if this will be a one-shot or if I will continue it. So you'll have to follow the story to see if/when I do.

Thank you to my amazing beta, **Hadley Hemingway** , who really helped me with this story when it came to technicalities and making sure I could have a sense oh humor - yet sensitive to issues as well.

* * *

 **Crazy Love**

 **Summary:** Struggling to deal with her parents' divorce, Bella meets a confidant in the most unlikely of places.

 _Tick._

 _Tick._

 _Tick._

The clock's red second hand moved much slower than I thought permitted by the laws of physics. Speaking of physics, I should have been watching the clock in Mr. Mooney's class right then. Instead, I was stuck staring at the awful grey-green walls and barred-up windows, counting down the seconds. I looked down accusingly at the bandage wrapped around my left forearm, like everything was its fault.

 _Well, it kind of was._

The metal door swung open. A tall, lean man with blonde hair and black-rimmed glasses walked towards the desk in front of me. He was leafing through a manila folder by licking his thumb to turn the pages.

 _Gross._

 _Wasn't this guy supposed to be a doctor?_

"Isabella Swan, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Dr. Cullen." He extended the same hand he had just used as his page-turner.

I stared at him in disbelief.

 _I don't think so, buddy._

After holding out his arm for much awkwardly longer than necessary, he withdrew it and sat behind the desk.

"Do you know why you're here, Isabella?"

"My parents are overreacting and transferring their problems onto me?" I snapped.

"Interesting theory. Why do you think that?" Dr. Cullen leaned back in his chair and took off his glasses, placing one end of the frame in his mouth.

 _Was there anything in this office that wasn't covered in this man's germs?_

"They're getting a divorce. I'm seventeen, so that means it's the end of the world, right? They're worried I think they're going to stop loving me… or this was somehow my fault… and all the other bullshit that comes along when a family is torn apart."

"So, you're not upset about their divorce?"

My aloof demeanor faltered. Dr. Cullen narrowed his eyes, immediately picking up on it.

"I mean... yeah," I stuttered. "I've been shocked, sad, angry… I'd say I'm halfway through the seven stages."

Dr. Cullen pointed to the bandage around my arm. "Your parents are worried you're cutting yourself."

I rolled my eyes, knowing the absurd accusations already. "I was carving a pumpkin and the knife slipped. I wasn't trying to kill myself. I'm not trying to release any pent-up pain. I just wanted to make a fucking jack o'lantern."

It was just my luck that my mother happened to walk into the kitchen right as I was rinsing the blood off in the sink. A normal person would have asked if I was alright. A normal mother would have helped bandage her daughter.

Not called 911 for a suicide attempt.

I looked down at my arm. The cut wasn't even near my wrist. It didn't even need stitches.

He rummaged through some papers on his desk, not responding to my outburst. "It says in your medical history that you've seen a psychiatrist in the past?"

I gritted my teeth, not wanting to discuss the events of the previous year. "I caught my father cheating, and like a good daughter, I told my mom. Dad convinced Mom I was delusional, and I was rewarded by my mom believing him. As you can see, from their recent breakup… I wasn't seeing things."

"It says you were prescribed Clozapine?"

"I was."

"Are you still taking it?"

"I never took it!" I spat. "I'm not crazy."

"Unfortunately, Isabella, you've been placed on a 5150 – do you know what that means?"

Of course I knew what that meant. _Did I look like Amanda Bynes?_

"You are mandated by law to remain in this facility for the next seventy-two hours. You appear calm and lucid, so I don't see the need for medication at this time. We'll meet over the next few days so I can continue to assess you. At the end of the seventy-two hours, I'll make the call about your discharge. As of now, I can say that I think it would be extremely beneficial for you and your parents to start family counseling."

"Good luck with that," I huffed. The two couldn't even see a counselor to try and save their marriage. Yet, they had no problem throwing me in a psych hospital for a few days.

"With everything going on at home, take this opportunity to decompress and get a clear perspective," Dr. Cullen said. "Think of it as a mini-vacation."

I snorted. Did his patients actually believe this shit?

 _Well… they were crazy._

I glanced at his desk; everything was neatly organized in a color-coded system. The only personal touch to his entire office was a small picture frame of him with his family.

"Is that your wife and kids?"

He followed my eyeline and picked up the frame. "It is."

His family was like a Sears catalog. His wife stood as the picture-perfect matriarch, blonde hair blowing in the wind. His sons all towered over their mother, but looked to be fairly close in age. All three were gorgeous. Forget Sears, those guys were definitely Abercrombie material.

"Do your sons model?"

Dr. Cullen chuckled. "No."

"What are their names?"

He paused and looked as if he was debating whether to divulge the information.

"I'm not asking for your social security number!" I teased. "I just figured it'd be easier to open up to someone if I knew something about them."

"Fair enough," Dr. Cullen said. "This is Jasper, Emmett, and Edward."

"Were you guys at the Grand Canyon?" I asked, referring to the background scenery in the photograph.

"Yes."

"We went to the Grand Canyon when I was ten," I shared. "It took a whole day to drive there; we pitched the tents, and then my parents screamed at each other all night long. By morning, Dad packed up the car and we drove home. That's what I think of when you call this a 'mini-vacation,' Dr. Cullen."

He pursed his lips together, and his eyebrows creased down into a V. Picking up a pen, he pulled the cap off with his teeth, and wrote a few more notes in my file. I leaned towards the hand sanitizer on the edge of his desk and pumped it a few times.

"Let's consider this a break from your parents then," he offered.

He pushed a button on his phone, and an orderly entered his office to lead me to my room. As we walked down the hall, the orderly barked out a long list of rules to adhere to during my stay at _Casa De Loco._

One pillow.

No towels.

No shoelaces.

No jewelry, razors, or other personal items.

Breakfast is promptly at 7am.

Sleep meds are given directly at 9pm.

She opened the door to the small, dark dormitory. Two beds and a desk lined the perimeter. Aside from that, the entire room was blank. The concrete walls were painted grey. Bars lined the window, reminding me that this really wasn't a "break." It was a prison.

A small girl with a pixie haircut sat on the corner of her bed. She appeared to be around my age, maybe slightly younger. She looked up at me with wide eyes and smiled broadly. "Hi! I'm Alice!"

I nodded at her. "Bella."

"Bella, Bella, Bella," Alice let my name roll off her tongue. "Nice to meet you! I was wondering when I'd get some company."

"Yeah? How long have you been here?"

"Almost two weeks."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Well, don't get used to me. I'm out in three days."

"Perfect amount of time."

I watched her in confusion. Alice stood up and walked over to the desk, flicking on the lamp.

On. Off. On.

She shook her head and did it again.

On. Off. On.

She frowned.

On. Off. On.

A smile spread across her face, and she left the lamp alone. She pulled out a drawer, and I watched her do the same open and close routine three more times. When she was finally done, she pulled out a notebook and handed it to me.

"Here, you'll need this for group. It starts in 10 minutes."

"Lemme guess… You like the number three?"

Alice grinned and went back to her bed. "Among other things."

"So what's there to do around here, besides share your feelings?"

"Well, there's the rec room. They have games and books. Today they're showing a movie."

"Girl Interrupted?"

Alice gave me a blank look. "No. The Princess Diaries."

I sighed. This place would drive me mad.

* * *

 _47 Hours._

The countdown continued. Forty-seven hours until I could step out those front doors and prove my parents wrong. I had already been through two group sessions, one individual therapy session with Dr. Cullen, and a two-hour long pre-teen movie. I was getting edgy.

Currently, I was sitting on a stone bench in the enclosed courtyard. It was a bit chilly; an autumn breeze swirled the leaves around me. I pulled my cable knit sweater tighter and let my gaze follow the trail leading to the gated staff parking lot. I wondered if there was a secret exit to escape. I imagined doing some amazing gymnastics flip, that only Buffy the Vampire Slayer could manage, and hurtling myself over the fence.

But I wanted to stay. Once these forty-seven hours were over, Dr. Cullen would give me a clean bill of health. I would take that certificate to the nearest lawyer and ask for emancipation from my parents.

It's not that I didn't love my parents… but I sure as hell couldn't live with them anymore. Once the fight regarding my sanity was over, then the custody battle would start. I just couldn't deal with it anymore.

I had already made a game plan late in bed last night, while Alice turned the lights on and off until it felt perfect. There was no way I could return to school. I'm sure this had already ruined me. I could just imagine the gossip being shared throughout the hallways about Bella Swan's breakdown. I would ask a judge to let me spend the remaining months of my senior year with my aunt in Chicago, and by next year, I could start college at Northwestern University.

I turned my focus back to the sketchpad and charcoal sitting in my lap. I had drawn the outline of a woman with her hands on her hips, a mask around her eyes, and a billowing cape behind her. I imagined this brave woman as my alter ego; she was strong enough to survive anything. I added a cursive B to the front of her chest in a wispy movement.

"What's the B stand for?"

I looked up to see a tall guy with light brown hair blocking the sun. He wore jeans and a Hollister v-neck tee, which fit snugly around his toned arms and chest. His eyes were hidden by a pair of black Ray-Bans, and he held a lopsided smirk. I hadn't seen him around the facility yet, but he seemed too confident to be one of the patients here.

 _Maybe he was a sociopath?_

I looked back down at my sketch. "Bitch."

"Badass."

"Are you calling her a badass, or are you saying that's what the B should stand for?" I asked, confused.

"Well, you could add another B and make her Badass Bitch."

"A double B on her chest?" I scoffed. "Sounds too much like double-Ds."

"Well…" He leaned over my shoulder, running his finger along my drawing. "If you just widened out the curves here and here…"

I smacked his hand away. "So, I take it you're in here for being a perv?"

The stranger chuckled, pulled off his sunglasses, and let them hang from his lips. I immediately recognized him from the picture sitting on top of Dr. Cullen's desk.

 _What was with these Cullen men and their oral fixation?_

"Nah, I'm here visiting my Pops." He held up a crumpled white bag from Koo Koo Roo Chicken. "Lunch date."

I narrowed my eyes at the logo. "You've got to be kidding me, right?"

"What?"

"You walk into a looney bin, carrying a bag that says Koo Koo?"

He blinked once and then burst out laughing. "Oh man, I wish I had caught that irony sooner!"

He plopped down next to me, even though I didn't invite him.

"I'm Edward."

"Bella."

"Ah! Bella the Superhero?"

"No, Bella the lunatic," I spat.

"I doubt you're crazy. What are you in here for anyway?"

I bristled. "None of your fucking business."

"Come on, it's nothing to be ashamed of," he coaxed. "Let me see if I can guess…"

He leaned in closer to me; our noses almost touched. I was definitely not okay with him invading my personal space. Yet, his proximity also left me feeling a little thrilled. The musky scent of his cologne infiltrated my nose; he smelled delicious.

"Your eyes hold a lot of spark, which lets me know you're more cognizant than half the people around here." He pulled back, leaving more space between us – much to my dismay. "Anorexia?"

"What?!"

"Bulimia?"

"You think I'm too skinny?"

"No!"

"So, I'm fat?"

"Jesus, maybe you're here for paranoia!"

"What are you, a textbook on mental illnesses?"

"Nah," he grinned. "It's just considered light reading at our house."

"You know, it's pretty fucked up to joke about someone's problems," I said, accusatory.

"Why?" His eyes held a mischievous glint. "Isn't laughter the best medicine?"

"It depends. Are you laughing at me, or with me?"

His gleeful expression dropped, turning serious. "Definitely not at you."

I felt scrutinized under the intensity of his stare. I dropped my head, turning my attention back to my drawing. He continued to sit next to me in silence. I wondered why he was still there.

I sighed, finally giving in to his curiosity, and held up my left arm. "A jack o'lantern attacked me."

He looked at me, blankly. "Well, that's a first."

"My parents are getting divorced, and they think I'm handling it a lot worse than I really am. In actuality, I can't wait until the whole thing is finalized, so I can be free of their constant arguing. I cut myself carving a pumpkin, which my parents were convinced was a cry for help. Now I'm stuck here for seventy-two hours."

He blew out a breath. "Yeah, parents can be overdramatic sometimes."

"Well, their overdramatics just cost me my senior year. There's no coming back from this stigma."

"So, change schools." He said it so nonchalantly, like it was that easy.

"Yeah, what school do you go to?"

"St. Anthony's."

I scoffed. "Yeah, if I had that kind of money, I could buy myself a new identity."

He grinned and looked down at my lap. "Super Bella?"

"Super Bitch," I corrected.

"Double B."

I swore his eyes lazily roamed over my figure. I tugged the sweater closer to my chest. No way was I letting him get a glimpse of the goods.

"What color is her costume going to be?"

I shrugged. "The options in the rec room are pretty scarce. Just black and white."

Edward stood up and put his glasses back on. "I'll bring you some pastels tomorrow."

He started to walk down the path towards the main entrance. Before leaving, he turned and gave me a wink.

"See you later, Super Bella."

* * *

The next day I sat on the courtyard lawn tracing the same B across my superhero's chest. There were twenty-four hours left until my freedom, but I found myself counting down the hours until I would see Edward again. I convinced myself I was just desperate to talk to a normal teenager, and not the fact that he was freakishly gorgeous.

Besides, there was no chance for the two of us. He went to St. Anthony's; he was the type of guy Jessica Stanley and all her other mean little minions would fight over. I stayed in the background. I kept my head down, focused on my grades, and tried to remain as unseen as possible. Oh, not to mention I was currently in a psychiatric ward, and he was my psychiatrist's son.

 _This was stupid. Why was I waiting for him?_

I picked up the charcoal and pad, ready to leave, when I heard his footsteps behind me.

"Nice tits."

"Excuse me?!"

He seemed unaffected by my death stare, as he sat down next to me. He pointed to my drawing, giving me a devilish smile.

"You made them bigger."

"I needed more room for the emblem," I huffed.

"Sure you did," he said with a sly wink. He pulled a bag out beside him. "Here, I brought you some food from the outside."

"Seriously? Thank you! Last night's mystery meatloaf was frightening." I grabbed the bag from him and looked down at the logo.

 _El Pollo Loco._

"You're an asshat!"

Edward fell back on the grass, laughing hysterically. "Aw man, Bella, you have no idea how excited I was to see your face when I gave you that. I practically sped the whole way here."

"Idiot," I muttered, taking out a taco and biting into it. At least there was actually food in the bag.

He sat up and gave me another plastic bag. "This is for you too."

I opened it, warily, waiting for another one of his pranks. Inside were two new packs of pastels. He had actually gone to the store and bought me art supplies.

"Edward… Thank you."

"It's no big deal. Besides, I plan to make you repay me." He grinned and leaned in closer.

I held my breath and stared straight at his lips. He seemed to pick up on the change in my body language and smirked. He brushed his arm across mine and then flipped to a new page in my book.

"Can you make me into a superhero?"

I exhaled and tried to brush off the unwelcome feeling of disappointment.

"More like supervillain," I grumbled.

I spent the next half hour staring at the lines on his beautiful face, memorizing all his features, and watching the way his arm muscles moved when he shifted positions. As I sketched, Edward leaned back and made conversation.

"If you could have one superpower, what would it be?"

"That's easy: teleportation. I wouldn't be stuck here, and I could get the hell out of dodge anytime my parents decided to go nuclear on each other." I looked up from the shading I was doing to see him staring at me with such intensity that I glanced back down nervously. "What about you?"

"The power to read people's minds."

"Seriously?" I scoffed. "Look where we're at. You really want to hear what all these people are thinking?"

"Well, maybe just one person." He reached up and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. I felt my face flush and refused to look at him. "You're gonna get me in a lot of trouble, Bella."

"Why?"

"Because I really want to kiss you."

"Oh?" I squeaked out.

"Yeah, I'm already not allowed to speak to patients. So, I don't think my dad would look too kindly to me kissing one on property grounds."

"Well, then, that's a dilemma," I said, unsure how to respond.

 _Keep it cool, Bella; he's just a boy. The only thing different between you and him is he has a penis._

Great, now I was thinking about his penis. I felt a twinge between my legs and shifted uncomfortably.

 _Thank God he couldn't read minds._

"Why do you want to kiss me?"

Edward licked his lips, and I almost groaned out loud. "I guess I have a thing for beautiful, witty girls."

"They don't have enough of them at St. Anthony's?"

"Definitely not."

I finished my drawing of Edward and held it up for him to see. His brown shaggy hair was now bright green, and he wore a purple body suit that accentuated bulging muscles. A large J was embellished on his chest.

"Damn, I'm ripped!"

"Enhancement."

"Can you enhance anything else?"

"Does it need to be enhanced?"

He stared at me, slack-jawed. "Forget I said that."

He took the picture from me and ran his fingers around the outline.

"What's the J stand for?"

I gave him a wicked smirk. "Joker."

"Ohh, so are the Joker and Double B arch-enemies?"

"Super Bella," I emphasized, "will fight anyone who stands in her way – including the Joker."

"There's just one problem with that," Edward said, inching closer to me. "The Joker and Super B have some amazing chemistry."

He leaned his face into my neck, almost nuzzling me. I could feel the wet heat from his breath against my skin and had to press my thighs together to stop the tingling sensation.

"Go on a date with me?"

This time I couldn't suppress the groan that escaped my lips. I leaned my head into the palm of his hand, and his fingers gently stroked my cheek. I closed my eyes, savoring the moment.

"Where are we gonna go? Your father's office?"

He chuckled into my neck. "I was thinking of dinner this weekend… after you get out."

I pulled back to look him in the eyes. He was being serious. "And what are you going to say when people ask how we met? Somehow I don't think your father's psychiatric hospital will give us much credibility."

"People don't need to know the details. I'll say we met on Tinder. I swiped right."

"How romantic."

Edward grinned. "Don't worry; I'll bring the romance on Saturday."

I gave him my number, and he immediately dialed it so that I would have his when my cellphone was returned. He stood up and pulled me with him, giving me a brief kiss on the cheek.

"Call me tomorrow."

I threw my arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. His body felt so warm, and his cologne was intoxicating me all over again.

"Thanks for being here for me these past two days," I whispered.

His hands stroked up and down my spine. We embraced for a few silent moments, until he let out a frustrated groan.

"I'm not supposed to be here. I really need to go before I do something else Dad won't like."

I giggled and pulled away, immediately missing his warmth. He held onto my hand, giving it one last kiss, before finally letting go.

"See ya, Super B!" he called out, making his way down the trail.

I smiled and gathered up my new art supplies. As I went to close the sketchbook, I realized I never gave Edward his Joker drawing.

 _Oh well, I'll give it to him on Saturday._

And, for the first time in the past forty-eight hours, I couldn't wait to go home.

* * *

"So, Isabella, how are you feeling today?" Dr. Cullen asked.

"Fine," I said nonchalantly. I tried to take it a notch down from "fucking ecstatic."

"I know this hasn't been the most ideal location for you the past three days, but has any of it been helpful?"

I shrugged. "I guess. It was nice to talk about some of the issues I've been having, but I don't think it will do much good when I get home. My parents think I have a problem, but I think they're the problematic ones."

Dr. Cullen nodded in agreement. "As I suspected on the first day, I think family counseling would be the most beneficial form of treatment for everyone."

"So I'm free to go?" I asked, not being able to downplay my excitement.

"Yes, I'm discharging you." He smiled. "I want to have a final meeting with your parents before I sign all the paperwork. They should be here soon."

I sighed in relief. Dr. Cullen continued to make notes in my file, so I let my eyes roam around his office. My gaze landed back on the picture of the Cullens at the Grand Canyon. I looked at Edward and smiled.

"You know, Dr. Cullen, I don't know if I should be telling you this, but Edward really helped me these past three days."

Dr. Cullen stopped writing. "Edward?"

"Yeah, he sat out on the lawn with me, and we just talked. He didn't want to put you in a precarious position since you're his dad, and I'm your patient and all. I hope it's not a problem that we're going on a date this Saturday."

His hand tightened around his pen, causing his knuckles to turn white. "You're going on a date with my son?"

I gulped and nodded.

 _Okay, so we obviously don't have his blessing._

Carlisle pushed a button on his desk phone. "Isabella, I'm afraid that won't be happening."

A moment later the same orderly from three days ago stepped inside the room.

"Unfortunately, I'm going to put a hold on your discharge as well."

"What?!" I yelled. "You can't do that!"

"Isabella, I need you to calm down!"

"How the fuck can I calm down? You're keeping me prisoner here, just so I don't go on a date with your son!"

The orderly walked over to me and offered me a pill in a small, clear cup. I batted it out of her hand; the pill and cup flew across the room. I tried to rush to the door to escape, but the orderly overpowered me. I felt a sting and warm sensation shoot through my arm. Within seconds, I had the overwhelming urge to go to sleep.

"What did you do to me?" I shrieked. My body involuntarily slumped against the orderly's chest. I could feel myself starting to drift away, but was still consciously fighting with all my might.

 _C'mon, Super Bella!_

"I'm so sorry, Isabella." Dr. Cullen walked over to me in slow motion. He gently brushed his hand over my forehead, trying to calm me. I tried to spit on him, but drool just rolled down my chin. His image started to get fuzzier and fuzzier.

Just before everything went blank, I heard his last words.

"Isabella, you never met my son. He's been dead for two years."

* * *

I stepped out of my dad's car much calmer than I probably should be. It was the drugs. I spent almost a month locked in that hospital, while they tried every sort of drug cocktail on me. I was now at the point where I simply couldn't feel. After weeks of fear, desperation, and sorrow – the numbness was finally a relief.

Dr. Cullen diagnosed me with schizophrenia. I just called myself crazy.

 _But I didn't feel crazy._

Of course, maybe that should have been my biggest clue. I remember whenever my mom couldn't find her car keys, she'd joke that she was going crazy. Dad would tell her that crazy people didn't know they were going crazy.

 _Bingo._

I never saw "Edward" anymore. For a while, I was in such a haze from the drugs, I didn't know if I was sleeping, dreaming, or awake. That's when the paranoia set in – I could never tell what was real and what wasn't. I started to question everything.

Every night I would trace the outline to Edward's sketch over and over again. Every last one of his features was imprinted in my brain. How could I remember every detail if it never happened? How could a hallucination feel that real?

Dr. Cullen finally gave me clearance to leave after a thorough evaluation and finding the right balance of medications. I was able to stay awake for more than twelve hours on my newest prescriptions. Which, I supposed showed I was now a functioning human-being.

 _I was awake, but I wasn't alive._

My mother took my hand and helped lead me into the house. I looked around at my surroundings. Everything seemed so familiar, yet so different. I wondered if I would ever escape this dream-like state. Mom asked if I wanted anything to drink, but I waved her off and trudged up to my room. I closed the door behind me, hoping my parents got the message that I wanted to be alone.

 _Why were they still both here, anyway? Weren't they getting a divorce?_

I flung my duffel bag onto the bed and opened it up, unpacking what few personal items I had. There was my dead cell phone, which I immediately plugged in, a pile of dirty clothes I dumped straight into the hamper, and my sketchbook.

Opening it up to the picture of Edward, I lovingly stroked my hand down the side of his face. A fire started to bubble up inside me, burning through my emotionless state. Instantly, my mood shifted, and I became furious with myself for still carrying around a memento of my madness. I tore the page out and crumpled it up, tossing it towards the direction of the trashcan. Grabbing a pillow, I smothered it over my mouth and screamed as loud as I could. After a few minutes of rage, I no longer had any energy left. Panting, I rolled over and stared at the ceiling. I wanted to cry, but there were no tears.

How could I have imagined someone like Edward? He certainly wasn't the knight-in-shining armor that I needed. He was snarky and overly confident. He never swept me off my feet, but he stirred something inside me that I didn't even know existed. Edward made my heart race; he made me feel. I hugged my pillow, wishing I could touch him just one more time… even if it was a hallucination.

The best moment of my entire life was also my most psychotic.

 _You're literally crazy, Bella._

My phone beeped, letting me know it had powered back on. I got off the bed and picked it up. Glancing at the screen, I let out a strangled cry.

 _Message Sent 28 Days Ago:_

 _From: 310-555-3908_

 _Super B –_

 _Call me tomorrow. Can't wait for our date Saturday!_

 _Edward_

* * *

 **A/N:** I didn't want to spoil the ending, so now I can say I won for **Best Shocking Twist**. Thank you to everyone that reviewed and voted on the contest page!


End file.
